SlimFast
by Kenny's SpaceCadet
Summary: People think I'm completely cold and heartless. They believe I'm unfeeling. But they don't know my one weakness I'm in love with Clyde Donovan. Oneshot, ClydeCartman kindof


Summary: People think I'm completely cold and heartless. They believe I'm unfeeling. But they don't know my one weakness; I'm in love with Clyde Donovan.

A/N: Uh...hi. I'm the spacecadet and this is my super cool story (that sucks balls) about Cartman and Clyde, who, if you haven't noticed, seem to have a lot of chemistry on the show...it's really weird...anyway, thank you! Any of you who reviewed my other really messed up story, My Bloody Valentine, thank you SO MUCH! This one has Cartman in a completely different light though, so if you're looking for crazy Cartman killing people, than go somewhere else lol.

Disclaimer: If I owned South Park...I would be rich. I would be famous. I would be a boy. Sorry, I'm only rich and famous, I'm not a boy. Lol JK I'm not rich or famous OR a boy...so yeah...I'm gonna stop rambling now...

As I stared down into my cup, my nerves rattled. My milkshake appeared thick and ugly; why was I drinking it anyway? It'd only make me fatter than I already was.

"Mom!" I shouted in the general direction of the kitchen.

"Yes snookums?"

"I want to get skinny! Buy me a slimfast!"

My mom appeared at the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. "But sweetie, you aren't fat; you're just big-boned."

"No I'm not goddammit!" I threw the milkshake down onto the floor. "I am fat and I want to be skinny!"

"But Eric, if someone doesn't like you because you're fat, then they aren't worth your time, snookums."

My mother would never understand. People just don't like you when you're the fat kid. It probably doesn't help that I'm constantly bitching at them and manipulating their minds, but that's beside the point. Kyle does those same things too; he has to, since he's a goddamned Jew.

"Mom! I want a slimfast!"

"Ok honey, I'll go buy you a slimfast," my mom said. She gives in way easily.

All my life I have been the fat kid. It's like that was my label; Stan was the jock, Kyle was the nerd, Kenny was the player from the ghetto, and I was the fat kid. And everyone's always hated me. I remember one time when I had a break-through, and wanted to be skinny. But they wouldn't let me back in the stupid fat camp. I remember one time I actually saved Kyle's life. But those are the only times I can remember when I did something good for the actual good of others. But, me being skinny doesn't help anyone else, and I wanted Kyle back so I could rip on him, so I guess those times actually were for me anyway. And that's why everyone hates me; I'm a selfish bastard. But I hate them too, so it all balances. All except for one...People think I'm completely cold and heartless. They believe I'm unfeeling, even. But they don't know my one weakness.

I'm in love with Clyde Donovan.

I don't know when exactly I realized it. It might have been when he stuck up for me when we were planning on how to get the future device from the girls. It might have been when he got angry because he wasn't going to be our new best friend.

It might have been yesterday, when he told me that I should try and lose a little weight and I actually felt like losing the weight.

I don't really know what to do. I guess I can't really tell anybody; nobody would keep my secret, I know that much. Everyone would dearly love to get back at me using something like this. In fact, Clyde would be the only person I could actually trust not to tell, but it's about him anyway, so that doesn't matter.

But I guess it's all karma; I'm a horrible person, I guess I won't be having a boyfriend anytime soon.

I realized I was gay long before I realized I liked Clyde. I knew I was gay even back when I was nine years old. I would dress up like Britney Spears and dance in my back yard, and have tea parties with my stuffed animals, the only things that didn't rip on me about my weight. But really, I don't care so much when Stan or Kyle calls me fat. I care the most when Clyde says it. Because Clyde is the only person who's ever really stuck up for me at any time, and not taken it back later. Everyone else hates me too much to stick up for me.

Why is it that I'm so hated? I often wonder. I know why, but it still comes as a bit of a shock to me that there is literally no one on this Earth who likes me even in the slightest, except my mother and Clyde. And he doesn't like me anymore. But, there's no going back now. I can't just up and change all of a sudden. It doesn't work like that.

I trudged upstairs to the bathroom and stared at my pudgy reflection in the mirror. I wish I was skinny, but it's just so hard to not eat. I'm addicted, and I can't do anything about it no matter how hard I try. People out there, thin people, think that fat people are stupid because all we have to do is eat healthier to lose weight. But they don't understand how hard it is. Food is the only thing that makes me feel better when I'm feeling lonely. When you pop a doughnut in your mouth, the sugary good taste just seems to make all your troubles melt away for a minute. Does the doughnut care that I'm fat? No. Does the doughnut judge me before knowing me? No. Does the doughnut taste good and make me feel better? Yes. It's so difficult.

I open the medicine cabinet and stare at the contents inside. There's some razors and a shaving cream, toothpaste, my toothbrush, a bunch of floss, my mom's medication for her manic depression they diagnosed her with when I was in the sixth grade, and a few other odd little knick-knacks. I contemplate for a minute; what would happen if I decided to just up and kill myself? My mom would have more money to spend...and everyone would be rid of me. Perhaps the only bad thing would be that Cheesy Poofs might not make nearly as much money without me buying any. I know if I overdosed on my mom's pills I'd die easily. "I'd go to hell, where everything would be...better than this. It would have ta be! Nothing could be worse than my life right now!" No amount of slimfast would help me lose weight. I'd be fat forever. And everyone hates me. So, I hastily grab the small vial and attempt to open it. "Goddamn bottle won't open!" I muttered a few obscenities under my breath. Finally, after a few minutes of hard labor, the top came off. I filled a glass of water and then poured the whole bottle of pills onto my hand. "This is it..." I breathed. "I'm gonna kill myself..." I put a few pills in my mouth, picked up the glass of water, and...

The doorbell rang.

I don't know why I didn't kill myself right then. I guess as a courtesy to my mom, who wasn't home since she was out buying me the slimfast thaqt I was never going to drink, I went down to answer it, after spitting the pills onto the counter. I peered through the peep-hole, and was surprised to see Clyde Donovan standing on my front porch. I opened the door hesitantly; no one has ever come to my house to be nice to me...why would this time be any different? "What the fuck do you want, Donovan?" I really wish I didn't have to hide my feelings for him. But...well, I was gonna kill myself anyway...why don't I just tell him?

"Well...I came to apologize."

I jerked a little. "Wait...what?"

He grinned a little sheepishly. "Yesterday I told you that you should lose weight because you were a fat-ass and nobody likes you. When Mr. Mackey talked to me later, in the counselors office - you know, after I punched you - he told me that even though we don't know it, when we say things like that, it can make a person feel really bad. He said he wouldn't be surprised if you were killing yourself at that very moment. I guess I just came to tell you sorry, and hopefully you're not having any suicidal thoughts." He said that last part as a joke, but he doesn't realize how close to the real truth he came.

"Uh...thanks...apology accepted?" I've never been apologized to for real before. Clyde nodded brightly.

"Yeah!"

"Uh...wanna come in?" I cursed myself in my head. What the hell was I thinking? Clyde wouldn't want to come in. He'd come to relieve his own conscience, not to hang out with me. Plus, I needed to get back to killing myself.

"Sure!" Clyde immediately walked right on in like it was his house, not someone elses. I can't deny my surprise that he actually came in. He kicked off his shoes and took off his coat. "How are you today, Cartman?"

"Just getting over my suicidal thoughts about what you said to me yesterday," I remarked. He thought I was joking, but I wasn't. But, really, my suicidal thoughts weren't just from yesterday.

"Well, it's good you're over them," he replied. Something about that remark was false. One, I'm not actually over my suicidal thoughts yet. But the more prominent falseness is that, really, to everyone else, it would be bad that I was over those thoughts. Everyone wants me dead.

"No, not really," I muttered. "Would you like something to drink?" I cannot remember the last time I've been this poilite to anyone.

"Sure, do you have any milk?" Milk? What a pussy.

"Uh, sure." I waddled my way into the kitchen and got a cup from the cupboard. Clyde ended up following me to the kitchen and staring over my shoulder as I poured the milk. "What are you doing?"

"Watching you pour milk," he replied.

"Why?"

"Because I'm bored."

"Uh...we have a TV. And I have an XBox 360. Hmm...there's more fun stuff to do at Stan's house than here. You should probably go there." I don't know why I'm trying to push him away. Maybe I was a little too eager to get back to killing myself.

"No, I want to hang out with you, Cartman."

I don't think I've ever heard those words said to me. Ever. I literally dropped the gallon of milk and it spilled all over the floor. "Goddammit!" I yelled at the milk. Mister Kitty was immediately there, lapping up the milk and appearing to be in kitty paradise. "No Kitty! Milk is bad for cats! Get out of here!" I softly gave Kitty a kick, hoping he'd leave. I know that milk is bad for cats, and if I killed Kitty I couldn't live with myself. How ironic, since I was going to kill myself anyway. Thankfully, Kitty left. But Clyde hadn't; he was laughing. Of course he was laughing, I'd just humiliated myself. "Shut the fuck up, ass-rammer!" I yelled at him as I started to clean up the mess. I don't know why I find it necessary to insult everyone and anyone I'm around.

Clyde didn't stop laughing, but he did grab a towel from the stove and started helping me clean up the mess. "God you're a klutz Cartman," he said. I glared at him, though really I felt a little bad.

"Why the fuck are you helping me clean it up?" I asked.

"Because you'd be cleaning it up by yourself if I didn't help you," he replied. I gave the floor one last wipe and then put the towel back on the stove handle.

"Clyde, why are you here?"

He, while mimicking me by putting his towel on the stove handle, shrugged. "You invited me in, didn't you?"

"Well...why the hell would you actually come in?"

He didn't look like he understood the question. What a dumb-ass.

"Cartman...I'm confused."

"Obviously, you gay-wad."

"What, do you not want me here?" he asked with a glare.

"No! I don't want you here!" Why the fuck did I say that?

"And why is that?" he yelled back at me.

"..." I didn't say anything.

"Answer me Cartman!"

"...Just go." I turned around and walked a little, expecting him to leave. But he didn't leave. He came up next to me and put his right hand on my shoulder.

"Cartman, what's wrong? I'm not stupid, you know. Something's up."

I refused to cry. I'm a man, why would I cry? "Nothing is up. Maybe I only invited you in because I figured you'd say no anyway!"

And that was his last straw. "God fucking dammit Cartman! I came in because you have no friends and I figured you'd want someone to spend time with you!"

How did I know? He didn't want to be here because he _liked _me. He wanted to be here because he felt sorry for me. "Get the fuck away from me. I don't need your fucking pity! I know you fucking hate me Clyde, so just leave and let me get back to killing myself!"

"..." Clyde wasn't responding.

I shrugged his hand off of my shoulder. That was it. I'd blown it...again. I'd done everything possible to make Clyde NOT like me. "Why aren't you leaving?" I muttered. I expected a harsh laugh, some scorn of some kind...but what I got was a hug. "What are you doing, butt-licker?" I asked quietly. What the fuck is wrong with my eyes...it's like everything is all out of focus...

"I am hugging you. I am hugging you, Eric Cartman, the meanest, most horrible, terrible, and most misunderstood person I know."

Why are my eyes burning? I'm not a pussy like Stan and Kyle! I don't cry! "Why?"

"Because...Cartman...you're my friend."

Friend...the term sounds odd in my head. Clyde is Cartman's friend. Cartman is friends with Clyde. Clyde is the friend of Eric Cartman. Cartman isn't alone anymore because he has a friend named Clyde. That's when I broke down for the first time in my life.

"I'm sorry!" I yelled at him. "I've always insulted you, and hated you, and yet you always seemed to kinda like me more than anyone else liked me! I'm stupid, and I push you away, but I don't mean it! I want to be your friend Clyde!" I turned around in his embrace and literally buried my head in his chest. I was so scared. If I had been able to get the cap off of those pills quicker...I'd be dead. "Clyde...I tried to commit suicide...if you hadn't came over, I would've died!"

Clyde didn't make any surprised comment, or say anything actually. He just patted me on the back. Maybe I won't tell him I love him yet. I can wait a little while. I wouldn't be able to bear making a friend and then losing that friend just as quick. But that's ok. I've already been wussy enough for today.

"Eric, poopykins, I'm home!" I grinned broadly. I have never been more happy to hear my mother's voice.

"Mom, this is my...friend...Clyde!"

My mom smiled. "Hello Clyde! Would you like some Snacky Cakes?"

I shook my head. "We're not going to buy Snacky Cakes anymore Mom. I'm gonna lose weight! Remember, you went out to buy me a slimfast!"

"Oh yes sweetie!" She handed me a strawberry slimfast. Clyde grinned at me.

"Poopykins would just LOVE a slimfast, wouldn't he?" Clyde said. And then I punched him, and he punched me, and the rest of the day was probably the best day of my life.

End

Uh...yeah. This story sucks balls, I know. I can't exactly write very well, the ending sucked, and I know Cartman is way the fuck out of character. :D

Please review! I just want to know what I can improve on. You can flame me, I really don't give a rats ass. I'll actually be happy for flames because then I'll know what to improve on next story! Unless is sucked so bad you dont want another story lol. Anyway...review...or feel my wrath...RAWR!


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